


Feline Catastrophe

by Lunaraen



Series: Fangs and Family [3]
Category: Challenge of the Spooky Isles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Magical Realism, Transformation, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaraen/pseuds/Lunaraen
Summary: It's bad enough that they're on an island with animals that turn into monsters at night.That being said...It's probably worse that River has a similar secret that she hasn't told any of them about.





	Feline Catastrophe

There are benefits to staying quiet, to always being one of the silent ones.

It helps that being frightened only makes Mo want to shrink in more on themselves, hide under their hat and wait for the monsters to disappear. They're safe here, underground and blocked off from the agitated livestock, and it's easier to be outwardly calm while the others calm down and find their place in the basement.

That doesn't mean Mo isn't still unsettled, and while Kate seems content to let them hide for the night while the monstrous animals roam above, it almost seems too convenient.

Granted, given what they've all been through already thanks to her, Kate might just be happy to let them rest until blowing up this shelter as soon as it’s light out.

It's more comfortable, at least, right now. It's more like home, dark and quiet, and there's something inherently relaxing about knowing there's no way for any monsters to get at them in here. It makes it easier to smile, especially after making sure that Slugger and the others are okay. They can busy themselves by checking the bookshelves, filled with books so old and faded they aren't legible, and the chest, carrying nothing with the wood on the bottom rotting, and by knowing that they're safe.

(But one of the benefits to silence, comfortable or not, is having the time to just focus on other people.

And notice when things are weird.

Even when the sun was setting, before the animals decided to turn on them and attack, they might have had stuff to do, but working with supplies wasn't enough to keep Mo from noticing when things were off.

If they were being honest, maybe Mo and Slugger knew Toby and Quinn better than the rest of the others and maybe even that wasn't much, but even from what little they did know, River was too twitchy for somebody whose team was doing well.

Maybe River was just homesick, and Mo could understand the want to go back home after they'd all been kidnapped, but Mo at least had Slugger. They'd known each other for a long time; Durango and River didn't really seem to know each other at all, but even that just didn't seem to explain the way River seemed so uneasy even when it came to decorating and helping with their shelter, why she jolted so much and kept glancing everywhere but at the people she was talking to.

Or why she focused so much on Durango's axe as soon as he made it and flinched when he swung it while talking about dinner.

Granted, it wasn't Mo's place and River, an obvious animal lover who was probably just worried about the cows Durango wanted to kill, insisted she was fine, and Mo isn't River's teammate.)

But Durango hardly seemed to notice, and even now, he's too busy joking about something with Rudi to seem to notice how twitchy River is or the way she's shifting further from their little circle, back already almost against the moss covered, cracked stones that make up a wall as she stares at the floor.

It might not be Mo's business, but even just practically speaking, they're going to be stuck here all night with almost no supplies and nowhere to go until Kate decides they will. There's only so long they can just stare at the moonlight filtering between the holes in the trap door or the shifting reds and oranges of torchlight without having it come to a head, and besides that, River deserves better than to be ignored.

Mo and Slugger have made decent contestants, even if they're not winning, in part because this all feels like a dangerous game.

They didn't get any more of a say than the others, but Slugger's always been interested in punching things for sport, not survival, and Mo's position for dealing with monsters has always been to hide. Mushroom islands don't have monsters, or much of anything besides mooshrooms.

But River doesn't seem used to running or hiding or punching, and Mo won't and can't blame her for that. It's admirable that she stood up for the monsters the way she did even when she's obviously not feeling her best and Mo can definitely respect her standing up for the (possibly) innocent.

Still, the twitching is distracting and worrying, and the way River pulls her knees to her chest before burying her head in them, hands clutching at her hair, is beyond concerning.

Mo nudges Slugger's elbow, gently, before nodding her head towards River, Quinn also looking over.

Mo's grateful that Quinn looks ready to say something, because Quinn seems better at groups than Mo, even though Quinn's been twitchy herself in the crowded basement and that means she's paying more attention to everybody, but in the end it doesn't really matter.

Because River's half scream might be strangled and muffled, her head still buried between her legs and arms, but it's more than enough to get everybody's attention, her whimpers just as effective as her arms tremble and all conversation grinds to a dead halt while they stare. Mo can't help the way they flinch; they know something's wrong, but the scream seems like an excessive step up from the anxious behavior and it proves that something's definitely not right.

"River?" Toby's the first one to ask, voice shaking even as he shifts closer from where he was sitting. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not supposed to be here _—_ I wasn't _—_ " River's words are muffled, River not lifting her head as she mumbles. She's still trembling, fingers curling into her hair and tugging at her pigtails. "Not tonight."

Nobody seems to know what to say to that at first, all of them glancing at each other before Quinn smiles weakly, pulling herself to her feet and moving closer to River.

"Hey, it's okay to be homesick _—_ " Her outstretched hand doesn't make it close enough to even brush against River's shoulder before River flinches, curling in tighter on herself as she shakes her head.

"No, no, I _—_ I'm not, that's not _—_ " She attempts to shove herself away from Quinn and the rest of them, shoes pushing against the ground as her back stays firmly pressed against moss and stone, River's voice becoming even more strained as she seems to realize she can't move any further back. "J-just stay away from me."

"River, we can't help if you don't tell us what's wrong."

Durango seems as confused, but his dry tone doesn't help what's either a poor joke or a drawled observation.

"Besides, there ain't really anywhere to go."

He's not wrong, though. Even a comfortable sized circle has them nearly taking up all available room, and even if most of them were more squeezed together on this side, there wouldn't be much room to even scoot back in.

"Up the ladder _—_ _go_."

Slugger moves from Mo's side towards River, smile sympathetic if openly bewildered.

"What about the demon animals? You don't want us to hurt them."

"They don't know they're monsters. Get away from me before I _—_ before I hurt you."

There's nothing to say to that, nothing that isn't pure disbelief because there's no way River could hurt any of them, never mind any way she would want to.

In the end, they don’t have to say anything.

Because there's hardly a beat between when River warns them and when she screams.

It's clear and strained, and it gets that much more startling by how it shifts into a yowl, and River's motions shift from twitches to spasms.

In a very quick turn of events that has them all yelping and scrambling, there's a loud series of cracks that probably come from bones as River continues yowling, back arching as her fingers curl and she begins thrashing about.

It's in a matter of moments that feel like too many hours that River's hair darkens and shortens, almost vanishing before the rest of her is covered in thick fur of the same length, her now visible mouth gaining much larger and more jagged teeth before her hands twist, fingers and hands quickly replaced by thick paws with larger claws. Her ears shift to the top of her head, pointed and covered in extra thick fur, and when she lifts her head, her eyes are entirely a deep brown, save for the black slit-like pupils, and nearly as distracting as the long white and black whiskers that adorn what's undeniably a muzzle.

(She's a huge wolf but not, and seems far too big to be anything like the cats Mo's heard of.

The long tail curling behind her and the seemingly retractable claws that scratch even more at the floor hardly seem dog-like, though, and what it is doesn't matter because the yowl it gives before it begins hissing makes it clear that it's unhappy and dangerous.)

Mo finds their idea of everyone being to one side becoming a reality as they dart away, Slugger nearly dragging Mo as she bolts to the wall opposite of River.

It's not exactly a far distance, Slugger to their left with Toby clutching to their right arm as everybody huddles together and pushes themselves as far from River as they can.

Whatever shame there might be in trying to shrink so that they can't see beyond their hat is smothered by terror because Mo's as aware as everyone else that they're trapped between the monsters tearing through their shelter and the one right in front of them.

Because whatever's in front of them right now isn't River, not any more.

Its golden furry pelt is spotted, heaving as it snarls and hisses at them, and Mo quickly realizes that they're all roughly huddled around Durango because he's the one who's pulled an axe out.

(He's the only one who held onto his weapon; the rest of theirs are in a pile in a corner of the room on the creature's half of the room, and while picks and shovels are good potential weapons, they do about as much as sticks when they're on the ground and out of reach.

Durango had been stubborn about keeping his, probably in part because Quinn had asked if he wanted to put in the pile and they seem to like butting heads if they can.

He seems to like spiting Quinn, at least, and that's not necessarily a bad thing right now if it's what gives them some kind of protection.)

"Holy _—_ "

Durango holds the axe up, knuckles white as he clutches its handle and stares.

(Mo doesn't blame him, but he is the one with a weapon.)

Mo glances up, which is hard to do right now thanks to the heaving, furry creature hissing at them, as Quinn raises her voice. Quinn's glaring at the trap door, the moonlight bright and fierce in comparison to the torches.

"This isn't funny, Kate!"

Mo doesn't realize they're clinging to Slugger the same way Toby is to them, or that they're suddenly crouched so close to the ground, until Slugger speaks up. Her voice is quiet, probably because of a few things, namely the large white bared fangs and the pitch black claws that are digging into the grout between the bricks of the floor, but she doesn't sound terrified.

"I don't think Kate has anything to do with this."

The terrors ebbs for Mo the same way it likely does for everyone else, the group still huddled and tense even as the panic is replaced by confusion.

It might be jinxing too many things to wonder why they aren't dead yet, but the monster hasn't moved, ears angled back.

Well, actually, while its gaze stays on them, flicking quickly between all of them in a way that's oddly familiar, it seems closer to the wall than when it had first started hissing, its side leaning heavily into the stone bricks even as it hisses at them.

What becomes even more clear after a moment is how she's shaking.

Her breathing's heavy and her ears flatten back even more as she hisses again, long tail striking the wall as it lashes behind her, and her shoulders are hunched. She seems almost as frustrated at not being able to melt into the wall as she is at them.

(Even if Mo hadn't just seen the transformation, it wouldn't be hard to believe that the creature in front of them is River.)

"...she's not attacking."

More importantly, she's no longer focusing on all of them. For a moment it seems like she's just targeting Durango, but River's not watching his face or even the way his hands tremble. Her gaze, and hisses, are directed at the glinting blade of the axe.

Quinn's the one to speak up about it first, nearly whispering, and maybe it's because she's tired and they're all confused, but Mo appreciates someone else noticing it.

"...Durango, drop the stupid axe."

Durango doesn't seem to like the idea as much, but that makes some sense, given that he's the one closest to River and that she's at least focusing more on him by extension than the rest.

"Seriously? You want me to drop the only thing that's between us and that?"

The next hiss is the sharpest and loudest yet, her breathing growing more heavy and her tail moving even faster, and there's barely a second's pause before everyone's hissing at Durango.

" _Drop it_."

River's attention moves back to all of him, body tensing as he moves, but the same tension that makes her seem ready to pounce vanishes as he drops the weapon, slowly nudging it away from his body with his boot.

(The others on that side of the group follow suit, because it beats doing nothing and it's better to slowly move it away than have that same wary gaze stuck on them.)

"She's just like an ocelot." Mo becomes aware that Rudi's behind them as he leans over their shoulder, swallowing as River slowly peels herself away from the wall to sniff at the now discarded axe. "A big, freaky, scary, flesh eating ocelot."

Personally, Mo's impressed he managed to keep his sunglasses on, but they didn't exactly ditch their hat either; maybe it's something similar for him, comfort-wise.

(Not the best detail to be focusing on right now, but Mo's always been better at details than terror, and now that the terror's mostly gone, they'll gladly take noticing and wondering over small things.)

"We don't know if she eats flesh."

Slugger sounds braver than Mo feels, but that's not saying a lot, and Sacha's tone is between unconvinced and incredulous.

"With teeth like those, what else do you eat?"

"Still an ocelot." Toby's grip on Mo's arm relaxes just enough for Mo to realize that they can't feel their fingers. "Maybe a wereocelot. She looks scared."

No longer holding onto any means of defense, Durango seems more than happy to try and shift back as far as them.

"And what are we supposed to do about it?"

It’s as much of a whisper, technically, as anyone else’s has been so far, but it’s harsh enough to get River to still, one of her ears twitching before she shifts back to the wall, ears still flattened even if she’s no longer hissing.

It doesn’t stop how much she’s shaking or that her breathing is still ragged and heavy.

"Don't you have animals in a mesa?"

Mo shifts closer to the corner as Durango glares at Quinn. Now really isn’t the time for a fight, but neither of them seem happy with any of this.

"Cattle and horses. Maybe some chickens, and there are always coyotes to look out for." He snorts, tilting his hat back as he eyes River. "I don't know nothing about cats, 'specially not ocelots. I always wanted a dog."

"Well, you're a lot of help."

"Don't see you doing any better. What, you're telling me you never ran across one of these out in the wild?"

Their words get louder, fiercer, as they continue, and River’s tail begins lashing faster as she crouches, pressing herself to both the floor and the wall. She would look ready to attack if she wasn’t trembling and if her ears weren’t more to the side.

(Maybe Mo’s wrong, because there’s not a lot they know about cats and they’ve never really heard of ocelots, but there’s not much about River’s stance now that makes her look fierce, and she hasn’t started hissing again.)

"Hey, you lived in the same town as her and didn't know, so don't start picking on me."

The general closeness of them all being shoved to one part of the room makes it easy for both Durango and Quinn to be quietly nudged and shushed.

"Guys, not now."

Quinn’s gaze softens as she looks at Sacha before glancing at River, and the sigh Quinn gives is as soft as she pinches the bridge of her nose and looks up at the trapdoor.

“...Kate wouldn't just leave us all here if she thought River would kill all of us. It would ruin her game.”

The thought that this is still River is sobering, if only because the idea of River hurting anyone, let alone killing them, is laughable. It works as well as the logic of the statement, because while Kate lives for drama, all of them suddenly being slaughtered and/or eaten right here and now before one of her games would defeat the purpose of any challenges or points.

Mo thinks someone opens their mouth to say something, but whatever it is gets cut off by how aware they all become of Durango takes a step forward to the front again.

And another.

And another. By this point, the chances of him running for the ladder disappear as he takes another shaky step towards River.

There’s probably a lot that people want to do and want to say, but Mo doesn’t glance at the others, probably focusing just as much as they are on how River shrinks back more before Durango holds out his hand.

“Good kitty...?”

The following silence is thick and uncertain in the worst ways, and Mo isn't aware that they were holding their breath until River leans into Durango's touch, at which point everyone in the group relaxes in the same moment, sighs of relief coinciding with slumping shoulders.

Mo lets go of Slugger's arm to rub at their own as Toby lets go, their fingers shaking slightly as blood and feeling returns to their right hand.

"D-do we go back to what we were doing now?"

There's a bit more glancing at each other before Slugger shrugs again.

"Why not?"

* * *

 

It’s actually easier than expected for them all to shift back into their circle and get comfortable again, even if more space is given for Durango while he gives River attention.

River herself sounds the happiest she has all night.

It's a deep rumble of a purr, steady as River rubs his knee with the side of her face, eyes tightly closed before she settles her muzzle in his lap.

Mo's better at stifling their giggle than Sacha and Slugger are at hiding their snickers, but that's okay. It's better than cowering and wondering what giant claws and powerful jaws could do to them.

"Looks like somebody has a favorite." Durango's frown shifts just enough to turn into a pout as Rudi's elbow nudges between his ribs.

"Shaddup."

The response is more grumbled than spoken, but one of Durango's hands begins to scratch behind River's ears even as he rolls his eyes.

It's unusual, but Mo almost feels safer this way. Even if any of the monsters wanted to try and come down here to get at them, they wouldn't get far. They doubt even a monster would want to fight with a giant ocelot, never mind a wereocelot.


End file.
